I Must Be Starting To Look My Age...

You can always tell when someone wants to crowbar something into a conversation when it suddenly appears out of the blue with seemingly no connection to the present situation. For example, the following conversation took place this morning between me and my wife:

Wife : Are you still using your moisturiser ?

Me : Not lately no, why ?

Wife : Well you need to use it EVERYDAY you know not occasionally otherwise it doesn't work.

Me : Are you saying I'm looking old then ?

Wife : No, no no course not. I just wanted to tell you that.

And with that she walked out of the room as casually as she could. A few minutes later as I was putting some on she added 'use plenty' and I began to smell a rat. I quite like wrinkles, I think of them as the story of your life written on your face. But I realise that I'm probably in a minority of one.

The Tip Of The Iceberg ?

Anyone baffled about the causes of the current global financial crisis, need look no further than Alex Gibney's fascinating documentary 'Enron : The Smartest Guys In The Room'. We all know that Enron was the first of many huge bankruptcies that have destabilised money markets and seemingly, everything else.

But what's interesting is how they got there in the first place. Enron went quickly from being a company worth some $65bn to going bust with the loss of 20,000 jobs. These days, these types of disasters are a weekly occurrence, and what with the Madoff scandal, it's really about time that we all found out exactly what has been, and almost certainly continues to go on inside these companies.

What it boils down to is greed, nothing more. During the financial boom of the last 10 years, lots of people made lots of money. One Enron guy walked off with $250m alone, and many many others became millionaires before the age of 30. Not only that but several other respected companies also made a packet. Arthur Anderson were receiving fees of $1m per week from Enron alone, but were later proved to complicit in their fraud, and also went bust with the loss of a further 20,000 jobs. The bottom line was that a few executives at the top of Enron, and several other related businesses were making insane amounts of cash, so everyone went along with it and no-one asked too many questions.

It was clear for some time that Enron's figures didn't add up, but so what, everyone was getting rich. However when it did all go wrong 40,000 lost their jobs and thousands more their pensions. And the biggest scandal of all was the Californian Energy Crisis, whereby Enron shut down power stations in California, in order to force the price of energy up, and then demanded huge prices from the State. The bill to the public purse was something north of $30bn. The White House refused to intervene, but then money buys you a powerful lobby, and not only were Enron the largest contributors to the Bush campaign, the chairman could also command an audience with Dick Cheney.

The overwhelming sense I got from the film though, was that this is only the tip of the iceberg, and that these practices have been widespread throughout the business world for years. Whilst a boom is in effect, everyone makes a big profit and no questions are asked. When it goes wrong and ordinary people get screwed it's too late. But who is to blame ? Is it the corporations, should we blame them for being greedy ? Well, I think it'd be a bit churlish to do so frankly, after all big business is all about the money. Their sole reason to exist is to make money. They are responsible to no-one, have no moral compass and will do anything they can get away with, in the name of profit. This is the inevitable result of the free market economy that we've all been so proud of for so long.

For me, the people to really blame are the governments of the world. They let this happen, they allowed these companies the opportunity to exploit the world for gain, and when it came to the crunch they were unwilling to act, or simply denied there was a problem. How long for instance did they tell us there was no recession coming, and all would be well. Were they really that stupid, or just inept liars ? Either way, it's not flattering is it. So when you watch the stories on the news of this financial apocalypse, and watch the jobs go in their millions, ask yourself who was supposed to protect us from all this, and how on earth they have managed to avoid the blame for it.

Ever Wondered What Rowan Atkinson Was Doing These Days...

...well he appears to be Prime Minister of Spain.

One of these photos is of Rowan, the other of Spanish P.M. Zapatero. Three points for guessing which is which.

Too Lazy To Run, Right We'll Suck The Fat Out Of You With A Straw Instead

I worry about this current generation, I really do. A report out today says that cosmetic procedures for men such as liposuction and breast reduction are at an all time high. As is obesity of course. And how are we combating this crisis, are we all eating fruit and vegetables, or are we getting down the gym ? Nah, that's way too hard and would involve us actually moving. Instead we're connecting ourselves to a vacuum cleaner and sucking out all the grease. Hmmm, what a nice image.

There are other ways to achieve these ends. A healthy lifestyle isn't hard to do, and exercise actually becomes fun after a while. But a constant diet of takeaways and too much drinking will inevitably lead to 'man-boobs'. What I find bewildering is that we've all become so very very lazy. What a pitiful generation we are. We have standards of living that our parents could only dream about, yet we spend all our time whining about what we haven't got. We are probably the first generation never to have to fight in a war, but we seem to take this for granted as if it's somehow our birthright. And worst of all we abuse our bodies continually and can't even be arsed to do something sensible about it. 

In the brilliant movie 'Wall-E' there's an imagined future human race. They're all fat, none stand up, and they spend their days on hover chairs glued to a television screen. That was supposed to be in hundreds of years time. More like next Tuesday if you ask me. 

Oh My Nipples Explode With Delight !

It's not easy this foreign language business. I've been living in Spain for nearly a year, and if I'm honest, my Spanish isn't all it should be. This isn't helped by the fact that all my work is in English,  I watch only English TV & film and I'm married to someone fluent in English. Sometimes I get so lost in British culture that I step out on the street and think 'What's that funny language they're talking in ? Oh I remember, I'm in Spain'.

I speak much more Spanish now than I did, and much more to strangers. This is the real test of course, people you know will make allowances and will normally know what you mean, even if you don't say it properly. But strangers don't care, they want to know what the Hell you want, and quickly. And if I successfully negotiate such a conversation I feel pleased. I may have spoken in rather nasty Spanish, but they understood, and that's the goal. On the other hand I know I've failed in two circumstances. One if the 'politely puzzled' look falls across their face. This is indicated by a slight frown, a narrowing of the eyes and sometimes a benign smile. Then I know I need to try again. The second, and rather more embarrassing situation is when you speak in your best Spanish, confident that you're next to fluent, and then they answer you in English, which incidentally is better than your Spanish. This is the linguistic equivalent of the Homer Simpson 'Doh !'.

Worse still is when you use entirely the wrong word in Spanish by mistake. For example, the word for chicken is 'pollo', and the word for penis is 'polla'. So unless you concentrate you might get more than you bargained for in the rotisserie. Also, Spanish words are either masculine or feminine and thus humiliation can easily be heaped upon you for wrongly suggesting, as I did, that your future brother-in-law was going to go out that night and try to meet boys. Not that there's anything wrong with that (Seinfeld hands) but he isn't that way inclined and was rather put out that I should suggest he was.

Pronunciation is also hard as the Spanish use a sound that requires you to clear your throat as if you're about to launch a giant gob at someone. They also roll their 'R's' at the drop of a hat, and I simply cannot do that noise, no matter how much I practice at home on my own. Also, they tend to pronounce every single letter in every word. In English we don't do this, pronouncing maybe what, 25% of the letters ? This makes our language sound dull compared to theirs, and theirs harder for us to speak.

So all in all, I'm still a long way from fluency. This is annoying as I know I should have progressed further, but my brain just doesn't want to learn this stuff. My wife thinks I'm lazy, and in this regard, she's probably right (just don't tell her I admitted that, okay ?). Also I think I lack a natural ability for languages. But that's no real excuse, after all I learnt English well enough didn't I ? 

Is Comfort Food Really Comforting ?

We all have vices. Some of us drink or smoke or even shop when we feel bad. Others eat. A while back now I was going through some tough times, and decided I would compensate by eating 'comfort food'. I think I'd seen some Nigella show where she had virtually orgasmed over a sticky fudge sundae, and I decided for whatever reason that I fancied a bit of that. So I set about rediscovering some childhood favourites like custard, suet pudding, bacon and eggs and so on. I got quite into it because after a while my whole diet consisted of this stuff.

But then I found out that something was happening to me that had never happened before, I was gaining weight. Anyone who knows me will tell you that I've always been a skinny git. So thin was I at school that I was invisible when viewed from the side. Since then I've filled out a bit, but I've never ever been overweight. Until recently. One day I saw a photo of myself and saw a double chin, a beer belly and I then found handles on my hips !! I looked back at my diet and saw lots of eat and lots of drink. My comfort had literally gone pear-shaped. At first I did nothing, as my troubles were still with me. But when I moved abroad my task was simple, go back to the days when my bones stuck out.

This meant giving up booze, and so-called 'comfort' food. Instead I started eating fruit and veg, and most importantly of all, I began to exercise a lot. As I write I'm waiting for the postlady, and then I'm off to the swimming pool. Now, my body has returned to normality, and my trousers are baggy around the waist once more. But the whole thing got me thinking about comfort food, and whether that phrase is a misnomer. I read once that one's mental associations determine how we feel about things. For instance if we associate pleasure, and good times with say a cream cake, then we are more likely to eat one when in need. If on the other hand we associate that item with being overweight, unhealthy and gathering cholesterol like we're collecting stamps, then we may reach for a banana instead.

Many years ago, Thomas Moffett famously said "We are digging our graves with our teeth". I don't really think anything has changed since then, do you ?

I Can't Even Dress Properly In Cyberspace !

I've been playing a lot of Grand Theft Auto 4 lately. For those who don't know, it's a video game where you play a criminal, in this case the pictured Nico Bellic. You start off small time, but work your way by performing various nefarious duties, until you become a king pin. The graphics are remarkable, and somehow the programmers have managed to reproduce New York City in digital form, down to every street and alleyway.

However, one of the things you can do is buy clothes for your character, to make him look more classy as he ascends the murder ladder. My wife has gotten used to me playing this game as she surfs the net, and despite the morally dubious nature of the thing, I know she admires the technical achievement. Anyway, today I finally got access to the posh clothes shops in Manhattan, and decided to blow a couple of grand on some new threads. My wife was in the room and I paraded my character in his new clothes. She clapped her hand to her forehead and said;

"Do you really think that those trousers go with that jacket ?"

"But I'm a gangster !", I replied,

"That doesn't matter", said she, "there's no need to dress badly".

I can't win can I, either in reality or out of it.

Are You Allowed To Be In Politics If You're This Cool ?

I've grown up watching some horribly uninspiring politicians. Thatcher, Callaghan, Reagan, Bush (2x), Major, Blair, Prescott and others. One thing that has defined them all is that none of them were cool. In fact, so remote have they been from any whiff of coolness, that they have to a man (or woman) resembled that kid at school who got bullied for simply having a stupid face. 

None of them have been sexy, none said anything I liked and none have EVER inspired me to believe a single frigging word they ever said. To be honest, I loathed each and every one of them. It's no wonder that my generation has lost interest in politics when all we've ever had are this chamber of horrors to look at.

And then, just as I thought that it was about time to pack up, find a cave somewhere, and consign our civilisation to the category of 'nice try, but no cigar' , along comes Barack Obama, a man so cool that he leaves a trail of ice wherever he goes. A man so cool that he makes Samuel L. Jackson look like a nerdy pharmacist from Didcot. A man so cool that not only do I really like him, I actually want to be him in the way that I want to be 007. In fact I'm a little sad he went into politics, he'd have made a great movie star, and I want to see an action franchise with him in it.

But this is all very confusing, because he's playing with my head. In my noggin there lies the following equation, 'politicans = sexy as wisdom tooth surgery'. They cannot be liked or admired, it'll only encourage them. And yet, what do I do with Barack ? He likes basketball, Stevie Wonder, the Godfather films, and looks so cool in shades that I'm not even sure it's legal. THAT ISN'T A POLITICIAN  !!!!! Where's the ugly face, the lack of style, the bad teeth, the silly hair, the stupid comments and the atrocious taste in everything ? You know what he's gone and done don't you, he's ruined my cynicism. And I need it so very much, it keeps me cold at night.

Now I shall have to follow him, get all the albums and be really upset if someone disses him. It's not fair, I NEED MY DISAPPOINTMENT !!!! Oh hang on, there's always Gordon Brown and oh, everyone else in politics in the U.K.. The British political scene features men and women so charmless that if unpopularity were a criminal offence they'd all be doing 20 years. Yes that's okay, I can continue to hold them in contempt. Phew, I can still be British then.

The Oscar Noms

Well, today at 5:30 a.m. Pacific Time, this year's Oscar noms were announced. I saw them on the, let's be honest, appalling BBC World channel. As usual there was an over emphasis on anyone British who happened to be involved, rather than a neutral examination of the state of film. Not only that but the presenters seemed unable to remember the actual nominations that had been read out 2 minutes before, and proceeded to tell us that Kate Winslett had been nominated for 'Revolutionary Road' (no) and that Sam Mendes had been nominated for the same film (no again).

It was a shame (but not a surprise) that Michael Sheen was ignored. I was also disappointed to see Wall E confined to the best animated section and no 'Dark Knight' mentioned except for Heath Ledger's almost mandatory nomination. 'The Reader' did better than most people thought, and dark horse/favourite 'Slumdog Millionaire' did very well. Of course as much of a film buff as I am, I have seen virtually none of these films. The only one I have seen is 'Benjamin Button' and I can tell you all that it is brilliant. Fincher and Pitt thoroughly deserve their noms, and it is a very Oscar friendly type of film. I also want to see 'Frost/Nixon' but I can't see it winning anything given that it has no stars and bombed at the box office.

Over in the ladies' singles it seems to be a straight fight between Winslett and Jolie. I favour the latter, it's her turn. As for the men I fancy a drop of 'Milk' personally. 'Waltz With Bashir' might as well get pre-delivery of the statue and Best Picture will be a toss up between 'Button' and 'Slumdog'. Now does any of this really matter ? No, course not. But we'll be watching nonetheless. Only shame is that Jon Stewart isn't hosting this year. Still, we got Obama, let's not be greedy.

So, No Pressure Then...

I, like about a zillion other people, watched Barack Obama take office today. I'll make no bones about this, I like the man. I supported him for the last year and would have voted for him if I could have done so. As I watched him today I was again impressed by his self-possession under what must be incredibly stressful conditions. But the question now must be this, can he deliver ? No doubt he is a very astute politician and his campaign has been masterful, but now it is time to govern and that is a different beast entirely.

Washington is a viper's nest of vested interests, and because of the set up of Congress, it can often be hard for a President to actually make anything happen. Not only that but since he won there's been a change in tone from Obama, the boundless optimism has now been replaced by a cautious reserve. Having been able to look at the books, and now knowing what he couldn't possibly have known before, does he still feel he can create the change he imagined ?

What worries me is that the expectations are too great, people view him as a messiah, and that's a problem. He's only a man. A clever, charming and decent one for sure, but just a man all the same. He cannot turn water into wine, and he may not be able to fix America. The Bush administration left the country in such a mess that it could take several Presidents to fix it, and Obama only has 4 years maybe 8. So I hope that people don't get disappointed when things don't happen as fast as they thought, and don't get disillusioned once more. I think he'll do very well, but it's a very hard job, and harder than it's ever been right now.

Pretty City - Part 6

Here's a photo of the main city square in Valencia, my beautiful home town. And any passing sniper might like to note that I shall be walking through it tomorrow morning at approximately 9 a.m. Spanish time. Actually, what the Hell do I mean by a 'passing sniper' ? Am I suggesting that there are people that wander the streets with high velocity rifles slung over their shoulders, just waiting for the moment to suddenly ascend a tall building and take out members of the populace ? And if there were, do I really think that they'd waste their time and money shooting me. After all the cost of the rifle and bullet would be greater than the value of my entire estate. Er....anyway, I seem to have digressed somewhat from my original point, which was to show you this nice picture. Now I need to lie down for a while with a cold compress held to my brow.

If Money Can't Buy You Happiness, Can It Buy You An Orgasm ?

A new study out today, published by Newcastle University claims that women orgasm more if their partner is wealthy. Indeed the study describes a sliding scale, if you will, which equates to 'more cash = more come'. Now I imagine that this study won't be popular as it may be seen to suggest that women are turned on by money and not their partner's physical appearance or personality. I can make no comment on this as I've never really had a penny all my life. I've certainly never been rich.

So, I was wondering if the women out there had any views on this. Is there possibly any truth in it, or is it just the work of a twisted person who got dumped for someone on a higher pay scale ? Discuss...

How Comedy Dinosaurs Saved My Shopping Trip

It's sale time here in Spain, and that scares me. Not because I worry about the money we might spend (because we haven't got any) nor because I think the bargains won't be good, because the shops are desperate. No, my worry is that I will spend precisely 7 minutes looking at the things I'm interested in and will then spend the rest of the time trailing round after my wife as she tries on 687 things and then buys nothing.

The men that are to be found hanging around disconsolately outside the changing rooms in women's clothing shops are a sad bunch. We have no purpose left in life, nowhere to go, nothing to add. If our partners emerge from the cubicle with something on and solicit an opinion we'll probably get it wrong. 

If we say we like it they won't be sure all of a sudden, will frown and disappear quickly. If we say we don't like it then they'll snarl at us and say 'well what the Hell do you know anyway, look at the rubbish you're wearing !' and flounce off back to where they came from. Us men all look at each other nervously, a small spark of mutual sympathy passes between us and we then look at our feet in shame. This is what our lives have amounted to, waiting around endlessly for someone who doesn't trust anything we say. One enterprising place I know has taken advantage of this and installed a bench and two massage chairs outside a female clothing shop. It's usually more crowded outside than in.

Anyway, my wife knows that I hate shopping with a passion and get bored almost as soon as I hear the muzak. So, she encouraged me to download a game on my mobile to play whilst I waited. I've always been wary of phone games, because I am something of a videogame snob, and usually if it's not on a PS3 in HD, I'm not interested. However, online the other day I noticed they had 'Puzzle Bobble' on there. I took a chance and downloaded it, and this proved to be a stroke of genius. The game is a simple little puzzler whereby you shoot bubbles up the screen and if you get three touching each other they pop. The idea is to clear all the bubbles before the time is up. Like Tetris it is simple, easy and addictive like crack cocaine. Amusingly it is hosted by two cute little cartoon dinosaurs, one who brings the bubbles onto the screen and the other who shoots them from a little catapult. If you lose they cry but if you win they do a little dance. After a while I got so invested in them that I played my heart out, just so as not to let them down. They really are terrifically cute.

So, today as my wife predictably tried on every item of clothing ever manufactured and then just bought one simple grey top, I sat in the coffee shop and went on a mission for my two colourful little friends. Is this sad ? That's not for me to say, but I can tell you that I'm currently on level 16 and I now intend to carry my little dinosaurs with me everywhere I go. 

Bye Bye Rumpole

Sir John Mortimer, creator of the legendary character Horace Rumpole, has died. A barrister himself, Mortimer created the ultimate Old Bailey hack in Rumpole. Sarcastic, world-weary but also the best advocate in the room, Rumpole was clearly an amalgam of real barristers who can still be found skulking around the Bailey today. The stories date back 30 odd years and I think I've read all of them. From a young age Rumpole was a hero of mine and many other young barristers I knew. He didn't care who he upset, and he wasn't interested in promotion. He just basked in how good he was in court.

Mortimer himself was a Q.C., a distinction his creation never achieved and allegedly never coveted. And he conducted a high-profile career which often brought as much fame as his writing work. He was a funny man and a fine writer. And with him he takes Horace Rumpole and his blood stains, his Penge Bungalow murder trial, and the revolting claret that he and only he could bear to drink. 

There are a few real Rumpoles out there, I've met some of them. Men and women who sardonically trudge down to the Central Criminal Court on a nice little murder, upset the judge, infuriate the more senior opponent and then proceed to wipe the floor with all of them. They then trundle home to their modest houses, maybe slurp a glass at 'El Vinos' on the way there and continue to remain totally anonymous to the rest of the world. Horace Rumpole is a tribute to these unsung heroes of the English legal profession, and long may people read these adventures. 

Selling England By The Pound ?

Sometimes I look at my country and despair. I had a lot of reasons to leave nearly a year ago, and I've had no desire to return since. What's my main concern, boiled down to a pithy sentence ? Well it's mainly that I don't recognise the place anymore. This manifests itself in many ways, but today I'm talking about the decision to allow a new runway to be built at Heathrow airport. This means, amongst other things, that an entire village will be demolished.

Now I understand the commercial concerns, i.e. that Britain must remain 'competitive', but if they were really that concerned why don't they adopt the Euro ? Keeping the pound is costing British businesses billions in lost revenue. But hey, they're keeping the pound because they like having the Queen's head on the money. Yeah, with that sort of thinking it's no wonder they're falling behind. Who the Hell cares who's head is on the money, just so long as you have some money ?

Of course, it should come as no surprise that that noted genius among men Geoff Hoon is behind this. And people have argued, demonstrated and pleaded with the government, and their response ? Get stuffed, we're doing it anyway. Why, well because it's good for the economy. Yeah, and we all know how adept you are at handling that don't we ? Heathrow is already the busiest airport in the world, so just how much more traffic are they proposing to put through there ? In an age where we are constantly being told we must use less air travel and that the skies over the U.K. are congested as it is, just how many more planes are going to be up there ?

But what appalls  me the most is that the concerns of ordinary people are increasingly cast aside as worthless. Not only will a village be destroyed but there will be more noise and more traffic. Anyone who lives in Britain will know that the transport system is already miles past capacity, and that the countryside is constantly shrinking . But who the Hell cares, it's not about people, or the character of the place, it's just about MONEY. And we've just sold a tiny piece more of our souls. There can't be much more left now.

Why Isn't This Man Famous Yet ?

Following on from the question posed over at John's blog, namely does anyone have anything to say about the Bafta nominations, yes I do. I left a comment to that effect, but I feel I must do more than that. The man in this photo is called Michael Sheen, and it's a pity I even have to tell you that really. He's a British actor, currently appearing in Frost/Nixon. 

I haven't seen the picture yet but it's been very well reviewed and features a performance by Michael Sheen as David Frost. He is, as always, brilliant in the part. He has played Tony Blair twice before, in 'The Deal' and 'The Queen'. He also gave a stunning performance as British comedian Kenneth Williams in 'Fantabulosa', and will next be seen as legendary football manager Brian Clough. He is, in my opinion, a brilliant actor.

So, why has hardly anyone heard of him and why is he not nominated for a Bafta in his own country ? This is an astonishing omission and an insult to the man. He seems a very affable and relaxed individual and may not be that bothered, but I am, on his behalf. So, everyone please, both in the U.K. and U.S., keep a look out for Michael Sheen and watch everything he's in. One day he's going to be hugely famous, so just remember where you heard it first. 

Guilty Secret Time

Ok, I have a confession to make. Now, may I say right here that I am a fairly manly man. I like football, beer (which I deny myself but still love), cars and naked ladies. I understand the offside rule, what a full court press is, how traction control works and how to throw a spiral. I can tell you who is top of all the major football leagues in Europe right now, I know that Pagani are launching a new Zonda this year and I own books by Hemingway. I am a proper boy. 

However, I also love 'Desperate Housewives', which by all measurable standards is a rather girly programme. Of course I've just realised that the photo I chose for this post is something of a giveaway, but I don't love the show just for the eye candy. It's clever, well plotted, and very very funny. The male characters in the show don't perhaps get the attention they deserve but they are equally as well written and played as the female leads. Each season has kept me enthralled and some of the one-liners are just killer. And as for the art direct......oh, let's face it, you just want to know who I fancy don't you. 

Okay, it's like this. Gabby and Susan, fine. Pretty, blah blah. But too obvious, and rather bland. Edie is hot in ways that shouldn't be allowed in a democracy and she would be prepared, I suspect, to violate many laws on an average night, although I suspect the work of the plastic surgeon in her case. But no, the hottest of the hot is Bree. And I want to cover her in flour and take her on top of a tray of warm scones. 

Have I strayed from the topic, I rather fear I have. 

Just Call Me The Don

Well, it's official, I watch way too many movies. Today, the phone rang, and it was our internet service provider asking me something. I carefully explained that my wife wasn't here, and that she usually does the talking. But that didn't put off the lady and she established who I was and proceeded to ask me her set of questions.

Charmingly she used the ultra-polite form in Spanish, which is the equivalent of calling me sir, namely.....Don Stuart !!!!! And she called me that at least a dozen times too, and I must say I rather basked in it.

Am I silly for taking a childish delight in this ? Have I indeed watched too many films, and interpret everything as if it's being shot in 35mm ? Dunno, but it gave me a huge thrill to be called 'The Don'. Oh and before I forget, if you become my friend, then your enemies will become my enemies. And then they will fear you.... 

Maybe.

David Vine - When We Were Kings

Have just seen the sad news that former BBC presenter David Vine has died at the age of 73.

David Vine was one of those people, like David Coleman, Murray Walker, John Motson and Peter Allis that I grew up with. In particular I saw hour upon hour of David Vine because he used to present the snooker coverage on BBC. When snooker was a huge deal in the 80's, David Vine was our ringmaster, and frankly no last night at the Crucible Theatre in Sheffield will ever be the same without him.

These days, the popularity of snooker has dwindled and it is an ailing minority sport, leaking sponsors and even the current world champion admits to finding the circuit boring. But back when snooker was king, Vine was right at the heart of it. It's never been the same without him, and now it never will be.

Back In The Land Of The Living...

Well, I totally dropped off the radar this weekend, for reasons that I shall go into. You might have gathered that all of my employment here in some way concerns the English language, mainly through teaching. But on Friday afternoon I was offered a piece of translation that needed to be done by Monday. It was a good fee, we needed the cash and it was a legal document. Ok I thought, let's say yes. Hmmmmmm.

When I got the e-mail it was a 29 page contract !! I immediateky said to my wife that it couldn't be done in a weekend, but she carried on with it anyway, and so we were committed. Well, at 2 a.m. this morning we finally finished it, having spent nearly 30 hours on it over the weekend !! Then my poor wife (who had the harder and more time-consuming part of the task to do) had to be up at 7 to go to work. I didn't, but instead had to read though the hated document AGAIN to check for mistakes.

Anyway, it's done now, but that is the reason I've been AWOL, and haven't been updating my blogs etc. Oh, and if anyone else out there wants something translated you can either give me lots of time to do it, or buy yourself a dictionary and leave me the Hell alone.

You Silly Sod !

It's snowing like a bastard in the north of Spain, and they've just shown lots of pictures on the news of what people have been getting up to there. The most astonishing footage has been of a few people actually swimming in the sea ! A sea they had to get to by walking on snow !!

Now, I like a bit of a swim, I generally go 4-5 times a week. But that's to a heated indoor pool. These facilities exist all over Spain, so what the purple striped buggery are these nutters doing in the fricking sea !! They actually interviewed one grinning idiot, who was stood casually in his swimming trunks, with snowflakes falling around him. He said that the water was a bit fresh but perfectly okay. A bit fresh ? The cretin was seen pushing chunks of ice out of the way to get in !!

So this raises two questions. One, how are people doing this and not being subsequently wrestled to the ground by a team of orderlies with rugby skills ? And two, does extreme cold affect one's sanity to the point where one deludes oneself that nearly frozen water is an appropriate place to practice one's backstroke ? I really cannot tell you, but tomorrow I'll be back in the water myself, and I won't be dodging pack ice as I go.

They're Playing Your Tune George...

In about two weeks, the greatest dancer that the White House has ever housed will be consigned to history. George W. Bush is (hopefully) packing as we speak and probably negotiating a book deal for his memoirs. If they'll publish in crayon that is. Looking back over his 8 years of war, economic apocalypse and throwing of shapes, I have one small regret about his passing. Namely that 'The Daily Show' isn't going to be half as funny anymore. In fact political comedians all over America must be terrified that Obama might actually be competent. We know already that he can speak whole sentences, and that is immediately an enormous improvement. But in the meantime, Georgie has a few days left as President. Time for one last dance and perhaps one last immense fuck up. I wonder if history will look back on him with any kindness, or will it just say 'Okay, this has got to be a joke hasn't it ?'.

Grabbing The Baubles

Well, Christmas is now officially over, even in Spain. I have just taken down the tree, put away the lights and stored my baubles for another year. There is something very sad about taking down the tree isn't there ? Over the course of 3 weeks or so you get used to the twinkling lights in the corner, and the lounge suddenly looks bare and depressing without them. Ho hum.

In other news I am the proud recipient of a blog award by Brit Gal Sarah. I rarely get these things and am tempted to break into a 4 hour speech thanking everyone from my parents to the man I saw sitting naked in the changing rooms today, texting on his phone. But instead I'll just thank the people who come and visit me. From the U.S.A. special praise must go to Sarah of course, Lump and Debby. All write brilliant blogs and I'm always flattered when they leave comments on mine.

Back in the old country, I must mention my particular friend and sometime writing partner Mr. Soanes. Long before anyone else read this blog, John was there every day and was the only person who left a comment at least for the first year. Also, Steve Colgan has been a fun fellow to know, even if it's only by internet, and I look forward to seeing him in the flesh one day. And then there is the Yarmouth/Lowestoft posse who pop in from time to time and say nice things. There are others, I can see that from statcounter, but they prefer to remain in the shadows. Fine, well thanks for coming back anyway.

All of the people I've named can be found in the links to the right of this page. And to be honest, all their blogs are better than mine damn them !

We Three Kings...

I keep obliquely mentioning the 'Reyes' celebration so I guess I'd better explain what it is. In Spain the children are told that Father Christmas isn't the guy that brings the pressies, that job is left to the three kings, or 'Reyes Magos'. Not only that but these guys don't even turn up until the 6th of January. This means that Christmas in Spain is twice as long, and probably twice as expensive as it is in the U.K.. Today is a national holiday, children all over the land are descending into bestial present-lust and adults are taking no credit whatsoever for the stuff they've bought.

For the adults this means another big meal and more drinking. Not only that but I yesterday went to a procession of the said three kings, where several thousand people turned out. What happens is a series of floats whiz down the street throwing sweets, games and cuddly toys into the crowd. That sounds fun doesn't it ? Well it produces two problems. Firstly, you'd be surprised how painful a spinning chocolate bar is when it hits the side of your head at speed. Secondly the teddy bears caused a near riot because people literally fought over them. I almost got pushed over as a rugby scrum developed in relation to a nearby cuddly elephant.

Oh, and you also have 'churros con chocolate' which are donut type things that you dip into hot chocolate.  But the type of hot chocolate is really thick here, and two mouthfuls later and you're feeling a bit queasy. Finally there is a round cake called 'Roscon de Reyes' which is traditional like Christmas Pudding in Britain. And that's it. More revels, more partying and confectionary turned into air-to-head missiles. They're a crazy lot over here, but they do know how to enjoy themselves. 

Valencia : The Movie

Well, my good lady wife has been kind enough to forward me this video from You Tube, which is essentially a promotional video for Valencia, the city I live in. But it's done in quite a fun way, as a movie trailer complete with gravelly voice over. It only lacks the phrases '...in a world', and '...only one man' which would have made it complete. But I posted it here because I thought you all might find it of interest as it shows in movie form some of the places and events I've been describing. One thing though, it won't be in cinemas soon, instead it's appearing outside my window right now.

By the way, click on some of the related videos too, as they have more nice footage of the city.

Are These The True Faces Of Evil...?

Alright, I confess, I am actually listening to Chas & Dave as I write this post. For those of you have no idea who they are, consider yourselves fortunate. But they are a singing duo borne of the pubs of the East End of London who had a few hit singles in the U.K. in the early 80's. They weren't actually very good, but I rather like them for two reasons, one because of the nostalgia factor and two because...oh, actually there isn't a number two now I come to think of it.

I know a couple of people that saw them live about three years ago in Norwich, England (oh the glamour !) and said that they had a brilliant time. Oh course it could be that those two people are mentally unstable, or that Chas & Dave are foot tapping-tastic ! Oh hang on, Snooker Loopy has come on, I'm...oh my God... I'm dancing, to SNOOKER COCKING LOOPY. Save me...

Snooker Loopy Nuts Are We...We're All Snooker, Loopy !

Okay, someone call the police right now.

Doesn't Sodomy Just Mean You've Had A Good Night Out ?

I live in a catholic country, and I'm having to put up with a an awful lot of the pope right now. And the Spanish are fairly reverent towards him, but frankly, he's getting on my tits. In particular his recent comment that the fight against homosexuality is akin to the fight against climate change, has particularly annoyed me. Why ? Well not only because he's said something which is so ridiculous as to be laughable but also because many people around the world will now think that this is a valid position to take.

Let's be clear, there is no fight against homosexuality going on. The battle got won, they're here, get over it. To suggest otherwise is at best delusional and at worst dangerously provocative. Homosexual acts have been legal in the U.K. since 1967, which was still decades too late. The law isn't going to change, ever.

And while we're on the topic, what the Hell's wrong with gay marriage ? California had it one month then made it unlawful the next. Thousands are now getting their marriages annulled by post. What a backward step. And the reason for this, well we don't want to 're-define' marriage. Why, because it's in the bible ? Slavery is in the bible, but we don't do that anymore do we ? To withhold the right to marry from gay people is akin to denying black people or women the vote. It's not a question of religion or morals, it's a question of basic fairness. This attitude says, you people over there don't deserve the same rights as these people over here. Why, because you're not quite the same as them. Yes all men are created equal, except for that group in the corner.

Of course many people still believe that homosexuality is a choice. This is actually funny to me. The idea that people wake up one day and think, 'I know, I'll choose to get turned on by men's bottoms from now on'. I don't recall choosing one day to fancy women, I just always did, and the same is true of gay people. It's the way we are, and it's simply a question of whatever turns you on. So when all these idiots come on the TV and claim that they think everyone should be the same, and have equal protection under the law but then say that they don't support gay marriage, know that you're listening to the words of a liar and a hypocrite.

Gay people love each other too, and they want the legal protections that the rest of us take for granted. I don't imagine they expect the church to be happy about it, but I also imagine they demand the respect they're due. And as for the pope, maybe he should turn his attentions to something he knows more about. Oh and if he wants to save the planet maybe he should use low energy light bulbs in the Vatican ? Or make fewer flights ? Or perhaps run the popemobile on chip fat ? Or leave it all to God, who as I understand it, he believes determines everything anyway ?  

500 - And It's Pissing Down...

Can I make a small confession ? Thought so. Well, in truth I always intended to close this blog when I got to 500 posts, and I have now reached that target. I assumed that by that point I would have exhausted every imaginable topic and would have no more to say. This, it appears, isn't the case and so 'The Writing Factory' will remain open. I'm actually quite pleased with myself that I've got this far and don't feel completely worn out and fed up. Indeed last year alone I put up 280 new posts, more than half the amount put up in the entire lifetime of this blog. So, there must be some more in there.

In other news, it is raining like a demon here. All you in England that complain about the rain ? Shut your gobs, because when it rains here you look out of the window and expect to see someone down the road building an Ark. I have a large empty plant pot on my terrace which is now full and overflowing, just with the overnight rain. But having said that it was also 23 degrees (C) and sunny yesterday morning. 

Now I shall move onto the topic of 'followers'. You will notice that I do not have a gadget on my blog that tells you how many and who follows this blog. However, people do follow this blog and God bless each and every one of you, if I could squeeze you all affectionately I would do. But I don't intend to put you all up on the side there. Why ? Er, well that way it all gets a bit too Facebook for me, and I closed down my account in irritation some time ago. So my followers will remain anonymous, guaranteed, for good.

Finally, in the spirit of my post below, I have finally started work on my new book, about which all I will say is that it is a ghost story set in my home county of Norfolk, England. A splendid place to set ghostly goings on if ever I saw one. And I can say just this about it so far, isn't it odd that when you actually start writing a long planned story how it so often turns out to be a different idea than the one you thought it was ?  Right, better start thinking about the next 500 posts...

It's 2009, Get The Broom Out...

Right, it's a new year, and it's time to shake some stuff up. 

I have been looking at my navel a little too much in the past 12 months, but it's a process I clearly needed to go through. Mainly I have been picking through the ashes of my now defunct legal career, wondering if I could have done it better and musing over whether I should have done it at all. I always had the feeling that somehow I would be drawn back to it by necessity but 12 months into my retirement it seems I'm actually out.

I've also been brooding too much on England. I must make clear that I've never regretted moving away and my life here is infinitely better than it was there, but I still have regrets. I will go back soon for a holiday, and try to make my peace with the place. Ideally I would have the sort of life where I get to go there several times a year. But I now know that I want my home to be in the Med. However it's now time to let the past go, to bury all those ghosts and demons and to move forward into the second half of my life.

And finally, writing. The blogosphere is stuffed with people who either want to be, or actually are professional writers. I'm in the earlier category but would like to make some real money from my hobby and passion. I rarely talk about this topic here, but I did see something recently which struck me as pretty salient on this point. It was a blog by someone who had passed from the wannabe status to the professional camp. He was outlining what his life was like now and how busy he was, but he also gave one very important piece of advice on how to get started, and that was that you need to actually write something good. No point in talking about it, thinking, planning and discussing it. You need to actually get on with it. And so that's what I intend to do, and you won't catch me agonising over it here.

So, I'm taking a stiff-bristled broom to my life. I suggest you all do the same. We've become a rather ponderous generation, happier analysing that actually doing. Time to reverse those poles, because there's so much to be done.